Apples to Apples
by lithugraph
Summary: Alfred tries to surprise Roderich by making his favorite dessert. (100% domestic fluff. I saw a post on Tumblr and it turned into a thing and just...I had to write a fic for it.) Austria/America/AusAme/AmeAus/Smooth Jazz Duo


**.**

 **Apples to Apples**

 **.**

* * *

When Roderich awoke that morning to the sound of banging, followed by a few choice swears, he immediately thought they were being robbed. Once his sleep-clouded mind had a chance to clear and he saw the space in bed next to him was empty, he realized it was only Alfred downstairs in the kitchen. He flopped back onto his pillow, wanting to reclaim stolen sleep and letting his eyes close, when another thought forced them open again: Oh God, Alfred was _cooking._

It wasn't like his boyfriend _couldn't_ cook. Alfred's palate certainly was different from his own when it came to daily meals like dinner, but they both seemed to always agree when it came to dessert (and Roderich remembered his first experience with barbecue fondly). No. Alfred's cooking wasn't terrible. His methods, however, were...interesting.

Roderich sighed, pushed himself up. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand and swung his legs down, his toes finding the soft, fleece-lined slippers Alfred had given him for Christmas. He shuffled to the bathroom to get his robe, then went downstairs.

As Roderich rounded the corner, his ears were once again assaulted by a loud bang and Alfred's favorite phrase to use when he was _really_ frustrated: "Come _on!_ Seriously!?"

"Alfred?" Roderich pushed his glasses up his nose, taking in the scene before him. There his boyfriend stood, in the middle of the kitchen, wielding an egg covered pastry brush in one hand and a rolling pin in the other. The look on his face suggested he could not decide between being shocked, annoyed, or apologetic. He compromised and went for all three.

"Hey! Mornin'! W-what are you doing up already?"

"I heard...noises..." Roderich's eyes swept over the kitchen. It was absolutely wrecked. Bowls were piled nearly two feet high in the sink, leaning like a culinary Tower of Pisa. Flour covered the every visible surface. Powdery hand prints dotted the cabinets; apple peel spirals were strewn here and there like party streamers. Alfred cleared his throat, shifting himself to hide a pile of - something - laying behind him on the counter.

"Well, I was going to surprise you, but - " Alfred swung the pastry brush in an elaborate flourish, sending the yellow yolk still clinging to it splattering to the floor. He looked guiltily at the egg and gave a nervous chuckle. "Heh. Oops. I'll - I'll clean it up, Roddy. All of it. Just...give me a sec."

Alfred glanced a helpless moment at the brush and rolling pin before deciding to toss them in the sink. Roderich watched, apprehensive, as the tower of dishes swayed precariously, only daring to breathe once he was sure it would not fall.

Alfred grabbed a roll of paper towels off the counter and began wiping up the spilled egg, leaving Roderich to examine the lump on the counter.

"What were you trying to make?"

Alfred looked up, his glasses slipping down his nose. His face became bright crimson when he saw Roderich prodding the dough.

"...Apple strudel," he grumbled under his breath. "I know when I make apple pie...it's just not the same."

"But I like your apple pie."

Alfred grinned sheepishly, scratching the back his neck. "I just...wanted to do something special for you. I remembered how much you said you missed strudel...and I wanted to surprise you. B-but it's so hard to _make._ The dough kept sticking to everything and I couldn't get it thin enough and - "

Roderich silenced him with a kiss on the cheek. "That's because it takes a gentler approach."

Alfred's face turned an even deeper red. "When I Googled how to make it, it said to 'flog' the dough, or whatever..."

Roderich hid a smile. That would explain the banging, he thought. He kneaded his hands in the dough. Alfred had gotten it the right consistency - not too thick or lumpy. Good. Then they shouldn't have to start all over. He rinsed off the rolling pin and set to work flattening the dough. Once he had a decent circle rolled, he coated his hands in flour, slid them under the dough, and began stretching it slowly with his knuckles.

" _This_ is what I meant," Roderich said. "This is the part that requires a gentle approach."

He asked Alfred to spread a cloth over their breakfast table, then instructed him how to make the crumb filling. Roderich continued stretching the dough until it was translucent and paper thin. He carefully laid it on the cloth and spread the crumb mixture, apples, and raisins on one half with his hands. He brushed the other half with melted butter, folded the ends, and used the cloth to help roll it up. He placed the strudel on a baking sheet and brushed it with egg yolk, then put it in the oven to bake.

"There now," Roderich sighed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "We've got about half an hour 'til it's ready."

Alfred smirked at the line of flour Roderich had smeared across his forehead. "And I feel absolutely useless," he pouted, brushing it away.

Roderich took Alfred's face in his hands. They smelled like cinnamon. "You're not useless," he said, kissing Alfred. "Thank you."

Alfred wrapped his arms around Roderich's waist, pulling him nearer.

"You're welcome," Alfred whispered against his lips. He kissed Roderich deep and slow.

"...See?" Roderich said, breaking away to catch his breath. "A gentle approach."

Alfred continued his ministrations, teeth and lips grazing down Roderich's neck.

"Mm. How long did you say until the strudel's done?" Alfred's voice was low. It resonated through Roderich, coaxing a gasp of air from his throat.

"Th-thirty minutes."

"Ah. How shall we pass the time?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Roderich grinned. He kissed Alfred again.

.

.

.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ _Say whaaaaa? Domestic fluff? From me? Why, yes. Yes, it is. This is a total crack pairing, but I just...ugh! they are adorbs together. aph-bara-turkey drew a thing and posted it on Tumblr, where I saw the thing and then just pretty much tripped and fell into this ship._

 _So, regarding traditional Viennese apple strudel...it is fairly difficult to make. The dough is especially fussy, and if you don't get it just right (no lumps or bumps), you have to start all over again. Also, the stretching with the knuckles. I've managed to do it successfully (once), the second time, not so much. I got a big rip at the bottom...but at least I wasn't making Viennese apple strudel, so xD. And the bit about "flogging" the dough (i.e. banging it against the table/ work surface to help knead it) was something I found while researching how to make traditional strudel. Aaaand it's really best if the dough can rest overnight-or at least for an hour-after being kneaded...but this is Alfred, and Roderich's just trying to save the situation ;)_


End file.
